Wife to an Army veteran, mother of four, rescuer of animals, lover of history, and general scribe.
Bestselling books: Rebekah's Quilt (Amish fiction, first in a series), A Heart on Hold (historical romance, first in a series), The ABC's of Oklahoma Plants (children's nonfiction), The ABC's of Texas Plants (children's nonfiction), and The Big Bad Wolf Really Isn't so Big and Bad (children's nonfiction).

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Sara's Library

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

The Final Installment of The Saga of Indian Em'ly: The Journey Home is HERE!

The fourth and final installment of the Indian Em'ly Saga is here . . . and just .99 cents! This is by far my favorite of the series, and I hope it will be yours too. Get yours here! BLURBTwelve-year-old Knocks Down and his little sister, Cactus Flower, manage to escape the evil orphanage along with a new pale face friend, Kid McCoy. But once they escape, they are set upon by a gang of murdering claim jumpers who steal Cactus and leave Knocks Down for dead.

Determined to find his little sister, Knocks Down gets to the nearest town where they’ve taken her, only to discover she has been sold as a slave! With Kid McCoy’s help, Knocks Down goes after her. Escaping once more, they encounter an old nemesis, a soldier from the nearby fort that was responsible for their mother’s death—and he’s set on seeing Knocks Down and Cactus Flower dead, as well.

How can a boy defeat a battle-hardened soldier? Just when Knocks Down is about to give up, the biggest surprise of all changes everything on THE JOURNEY HOME…EXCERPT The day passed quickly and in relative silence until Kid realized something. “Say Chief, where is it we’re headed, anyway?” I scanned the foreign horizon, an odd feeling suddenly gripping my backbone. “South,” I whispered, “back home, to the land of the Comanche.” Without thinking, I dropped to a crouch and let every sound fade away. Chirping birds, whistling wind, even the breath of Cactus and Kid. Every sound disappeared except the one that had pricked my ear and shot the rash of tingles in the first place. “Something has happened nearby.” Cactus slipped her hand into mine. “I hear it, too. Let’s go.” Kid scratched his head. “What’d I miss? I don’t hear nothin’.” By the time we arrived at what was left of the pale face camp, Kid heard it too. The dog’s whimpering had grown louder with each step, and more mournful. There hadn’t been but six people in camp, two of them children, and no survivors. The dog, a hulking black beast with pointed ears, low hips and a long tail, lay by the body of the girl. Whining, he licked her face and nuzzled her hands, as if trying to wake her from a deep sleep.